


What can I whip for you today?

by MrsNesbitt



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, ice cream au, non established, this is really rubbish tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5878813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsNesbitt/pseuds/MrsNesbitt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re an employee and I have a crush on you so when you hand me the soft serve I accidentally grab it by the ice cream instead of the cone" AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What can I whip for you today?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bulletproofbackrubs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletproofbackrubs/gifts).



> A gift for trash baby's birthday, about 6 weeks too late.

Beca found that people had a tendency to make strange assumptions about her attitude- people would see the piercings, tattoos and eyeliner and assume she hated fun or happiness. Even people who “knew” her would do a double take if they saw her smiling or enjoying something, and Beca never understood this. She was, after all, still a human person and she enjoyed happy things almost as much as the next person- she just didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve like a lot of her peers seemed to.

This attitude was demonstrated well when the new ice cream parlour opened up in town- called ‘Watch Me Whip’, Beca noted with a powerful eye-roll, as Amy dragged her to its ‘grand opening’. The thing was, Beca liked ice cream. Of course she did; _everyone_ likes ice cream. But she didn’t understand the recent trend for quirky, pun-named parlours springing up all over town. There were already two in the area, and Beca just wondered why there needed to be such a variety of places to eat ice cream.

She, of course, wasn’t expecting to become a _regular customer_ at Watch Me Whip, and was slightly horrified when she realised quite how frequent her visits had become. In Beca’s defence, though, the July weather had been especially hot and humid, and with no classes over summer, what else was there to do other than sit in the parlour all day, eating sundaes and drinking ice cold soda?

It had nothing whatsoever to do with the girl behind the counter. Nothing.

This was almost true, because whilst Beca would undeniably, yet awkwardly and innocently stare at the girl from across the parlour a lot of the time, she went to remarkable lengths to avoid having to actually interact with the girl behind the counter. Beca almost never came alone, and managed to persuade whoever she was with to go and order for her, most of the time. On the few occasions she _did_ go to the parlour alone, she would try and subtly hang back until the girl disappeared into the back to fetch something, and then quickly order from one of her co-workers.

It was cowardly, and Beca knew that; but Watch Me Whip had table service, which meant that Beca had to endure painfully trying to face the girl when she would bring them their food, or take away their empty bowls. And it did not usually go well, with possibly their best interaction being the time Beca made eye contact with her and tried to say that their food had been delicious, but immediately began choking on her last mouthful of waffle and spluttered until the girl walked away laughing.

Needless to say, this total lack of grace and subtlety was not lost on Beca’s friends, who, it seemed, had privately decided that they needed to throw her in the deep end and get her over her fear of the girl.  So when, one day, Jesse and Amy suggested that they go to the parlour together, Beca tried her best to sound nonchalant and casual when she (actually very eagerly) agreed.

They did their usual routine; Beca and Jesse sat down in a booth while Amy went up to the counter to order for all three of them. While they were still waiting for Amy, Jesse’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, picked it up, looking frustrated, and eventually looked up at Beca with an apologetic look on his face, saying “Bec- don’t hate me.”

Beca didn’t like the sound of this, replying only with a sharp “what?”

“Okay, Benji locked his keys in the apartment and I need to let him in.”

“Are you serious? You’re leaving??” Beca huffed. To his credit, Jesse _did_ look genuinely apologetic. If a little weirdly smiley.

“I’m sorry! You still have Amy, though,” he grabbed his coat, heading for the door, yelling over his shoulder, “I’ll make it up to you- ice cream’s on me next time!”

Beca grumbled and looked down at her own phone, checking her messages, and she was surprised to find one from Amy. She looked up, looking for her- Amy should be ordering their food by now, but Beca couldn’t see her anywhere. Confused and a little suspicious, Beca opened the message and read:

_“Sorry, shortstack, I had to run. Gotta see a man about a kangaroo.”_

She read the message twice, trying to make it make sense, and finally decided that Amy didn’t even know what she was talking about, and was just making it up. Beca was just typing out a response, requesting that she try harder on her excuses next time, when another message from Amy came through under the first. It read:

“ _Oh, and I had to leave so suddenly- all I managed to get out was that you wanted a cone. You’ll have to go tell her what flavors you want ;)”_

At this, Beca finally understood the stunt Jesse and Amy were pulling. She sighed and vowed to get them back, somehow, later. She then had to decide whether to go and finish her order, probably embarrassing herself in the process, or try and sneak out undetected, which seemed… somehow rude? Amy made the decision for her with her third and final message, which simply said, as if Amy could sense her hesitation:

“ _I’ve already paid, just finish the order.”_

Beca couldn’t argue with that, and steeled herself- to the best of her ability- to go and talk to the girl behind the counter who she’d spent the best part of 3 weeks staring at-slash-hiding from.

It wasn’t busy in the parlour; in fact, there was no queue at all and therefore the girl in question watched Beca approach, grinning widely at her the whole way, which didn’t help Beca’s nerves one bit. Thankfully, she was saved from having to try to initiate conversation by the girl’s chirpy greeting.

“Hi! Welcome to Watch Me Whip! My name’s Chloe, what can I whip for you today?”

At this, Beca couldn’t help the snort that burst free. She’d heard the other employees give this same introduction, of course, but Chloe’s level of enthusiasm made it a lot more entertaining. Feeling sheepish for openly laughing at her, Beca quickly composed herself and sputtered, “Sorry, um, hi. My friend said she ordered and paid for me but I need to finish the order? So I’m… here to… do that,” she finished weakly.

“Oh, yeah! The cone! I’m surprised that this is for you, don’t you usually have a waffle, or a sundae?” Chloe replied knowingly.

Beca felt her face colour immediately and responded, “dude, you know my order? I don’t even order from you.”

At this, Chloe’s face fell just slightly. “Yeah, about that. Have I done something to upset you? I see you in here all the time, sometimes by yourself, but you never order from me and you barely speak to me. How come?”

This wasn’t fair. Chloe must have had some kind of puppy DNA mixed in with hers, because Beca found herself flooding with guilt and regret, rushing to answer, “no, dude! It’s… ugh. It’s not you it’s me? Oh god. See, stuff like this is why I try not to speak to you.”

Chloe quirked an eyebrow. “Stuff like what?”

“Stuff like… becoming nonverbal? Nonverbal, or literally choking, or spilling drinks… you just… you’re a flustering kind of person.”

Chloe looked ever so slightly smug at Beca’s answer, saying “’flustering’, eh? You know, I think the best cure for ‘flustering’ is probably familiarity.”

“Is that right? And what does that mean?” Beca responded, warily.

“Wellllllll…” Chloe sang, elongating the word, “it means my shift is over in five minutes and I’m going to come and join you at your booth, since your friends have left you alone.”

Beca’s jaw dropped just slightly. This is the last thing she’d been expecting, to be perfectly honest. She was just relieved that Chloe didn’t think she was a total creep for staring at her for three weeks, but now she was actually _flirting_ with her. Beca realised she hadn’t said anything for a while and jolted back to reality, responding, “uh, sure. I’ll be over there then,” and turned to head back to her table.

 Chloe called out after her, “wait! You still need to tell me which flavours you want, dork. And, like, take your ice cream with you. That’s why you’re here, right?”

Beca cringed, and nodded, saying, “right, right. Um. Honeycomb and white chocolate, please.” Chloe nodded as she turned to the freezer display, as Beca added, “…with sprinkles.”

Chloe giggled at Beca’s addition. “Sure, coming right up. And this order is for…”

“Beca. I’m the only one here, dude, I’ll know it’s for me.”

Sculpting the scoops into the cone, Chloe responded “Mm, I know, but you know mine and I’d at least like to know your _name_ before our date.”

Beca’s mind was immediately filled with white noise, and her eyes went out of focus. She was vaguely aware that Chloe was finishing her cone, adding the sprinkles in her periphery, but her ears were ringing with the word ‘date’. She was too busy focusing on staying upright and stable to be able to do much else, so when Chloe leaned forwards to hold out her ice cream cone, Beca blindly reached for it, grabbing the top and being jolted back to reality with her hands closing tight over soft honeycomb ice cream, a few inches north of the cone that she was aiming for.

“...Shit,” was all Beca was capable of voicing in that moment. She looked up, beyond embarrassed, at Chloe who was very clearly trying to hold in a lot of laughter.

Chloe steadied her breath, shaking from stifled laughter, and pulled the cone back out of Beca’s grasp, tossing it in the trash can behind her. “ _Well_ then. Guess you won’t be having the cone. Why don’t you go wash your hands and I’ll fix up your favourite chocolate fudge sundae. We can share it. If you promise to eat it with a spoon, and not your hands.”

Beca’s face was bright red as she just nodded owlishly and walked slowly backwards in the direction of the toilets. She was going to kill Jesse and Amy.


End file.
